


The Pirate's Fate - Journey of a Merchant-Marine

by Balfuset790



Category: The Pirate's Fate (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Fantasy, Magic, Minor Original Character(s), Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Female Character, Pirates, Pseudo-History, Transformation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 22:30:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18508384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Balfuset790/pseuds/Balfuset790
Summary: In the Pirate's Fate, one chooses the path that our protagonist, Spice Merchant turned Treasure Hunter Mila takes. But one thing is always certain - she is rescued from the destruction of her ship by the notorious Captain Darious and his Dread Pirates. But what if she wasn't? What if she had been rescued instead by Captain Anora, servant of Her Majesty Queen Nakhta? How would that shape this young woman's story in her search for a collection of magical coins with the power to transform those who come into contact with them? In this work, I hope to explore that possibility and write a compelling narrative from an entirely new perspective, a new take on a story that has over many playthroughs grown quite dear to me.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I've not yet fully devised where the story for this is going to go, so as such relationships and some tags that will apply haven't been added yet. I will go and edit these, adding in the appropriate tags as and when I determine their place in the story!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this opening prologue, we see both how things change, and also how they stay the same, as Mila wakes up after some incident leaves her the sole survivor of her merchant vessel, having been saved by unknown benefactors.

“Is she… is she dead?”

“We’ve waited long enough. Let’s just take what we want, throw her overboard and be done with it.”

“That’s enough, Anora. She’s opening her eyes.”

Voices. That was the first thing Mila heard after everything had gone black. The last thing she remembered had been… loud. Loud, cacophonous thundering. A storm? She scrunched up her face as she forced herself to open her eyes, the exertion forcing a light groan as she strained herself back into wakeful consciousness. She was on a ship, that much was clear, the familiar rocking of waves and the sound of creaking planks greeting her senses as her vision, blurred at first, began to clear. She was on the deck of an obviously large vessel and could hear sailors going about their work. Two figures were leaning over her. Two figures she did not recognise.

The first was a severe-looking woman dressed in a white uniform. The cut was crisp, well-maintained and fastidiously presented. Everything about her said navy even before Mila caught sight of the pistol slung at her hip. Scales and wings marked her as a dragoness, tall and muscular. Her beak-like face tilted down as she studied Mila with calm, dark blue eyes that matched the hue of her scales enough to make her look like she was painted in black and white, save for the lighter colouration beneath her chin and along her neck.

The second was a calmer-looking figure, also female, and despite being markedly shorter than the dragoness she had the air of someone who was clearly in charge. The tigress had thick brown hair pulled back into a utilitarian ponytail. Green eyes glanced between Mila and the dragoness and seemed to do enough to keep her silent for the time being. Her outfit bore more colour and was far less like a uniform. Shades of purple accented puffed, slit sleeves of a jacket that ended just before her elbows, an undershirt complementing and contrasted by the red bandanna around her neck.

“This isn’t my ship… where am I?”

It was a reasonable question, she thought; however, she regretted the asking of it immediately as the dragoness glared at her. She was expecting some sort of rebuttal, but a quick glance and a raised hand from the tiger silenced anything that may have come.

“This is the HMS Octavia, of Her Majesty’s Royal Navy,” she introduced, offering a gloved hand down to Mila to hoist her to her feet, “Unfortunately, I’m afraid to say that your ship was lost… presumably with all hands. You were the only one we were able to fish out of the water.”

Mila’s eyes widened and she clutched her arms around herself tightly. Her ship. Gone? The cargo was the least of her concern, this meant that her crew… her friends… may very well be dead. She glanced over her shoulder, out over the sea and saw nothing but the waves. Not even any flotsam that would indicate that a shipwreck had even occurred.

“What… what happened…?” she asked, voice trembling slightly.

“We came across you as another ship was scouring the wreckage… pirates, no doubt. We suspect that they attacked your vessel and were attempting to salvage whatever cargo they could. We engaged them, and the cowards turned tail and ran. Do you remember anything about the attack?”

Mila furrowed her brow, closing her eyes and thinking, hard. All she could recall was being in her cabin, checking the route from San Portia to her next destination. Then the noise… She simply shook her head in silent response.

The dragoness’ jaw was clenched, it was clear she wanted to say something but was reigning herself in, no doubt not wanting to speak out of turn in front of her superior. The tigress noticed this and glanced across at her, sighing and touching her fingers to her forehead, “Whatever you’re itching to say Anora, get it out before you burst something.”

Anora barely hesitated as she looked at the tigress with a deep furrow of her brow, “Look at her necklace, that coin. Jackie, that exactly matches the...”

“...the description of the items Her Majesty asked us to keep an eye out for. I am fully aware of that Anora however, I’m trying to actually make the girl feel safe rather than biting her head off at the first opportunity. This may be your ship, but this is my operation. Stand down, Captain.”

Anora seemed like she wanted to growl and argue at the tigress, but simply paused sighing heavily and then nodding her head, “Fine. I’ll go and make sure my crew are prepared for our return to the capital.”

“You do that...” the tigress responded as Anora sloped off, tension radiating from her every movement. Mila, meanwhile, was confused and trying not to lose her calm, a difficult prospect given the situation she was in. She barely noticed when the tigress spoke again, and blinked, leading to the captain repeating herself, “Do you have a name miss?”

“M-Mila...” she responded, hesitantly.

Holding out a hand the tigress nodded, and smiled, “Jackie, Commander of Octavia’s marines, and humble servant of Her Majesty Queen Nakhta. As the Captain implied, your necklace looks remarkably like an item that Her Majesty is looking for. Tell me, does it have anything inscribed on it?”

Mila considered the question for a moment. She knew that the coin did, indeed, have an inscription, but she was still undecided as to whether or not her rescuers were trustworthy or not. But… this did look like a navy ship of the line, and if a merchant cannot trust the Royal Navy, who can they trust?

“’Become What You Seek’,” she said, with a gentle nod of the head.

Jackie was silent for a moment, before she nodded herself, though it was surer than Mila’s, “Mila, with your ship lost I fear you’ll have to avail yourself of mine and Anora’s hospitality until we can return to land. However, I would request that once we return to port that I take you to see Her Majesty. She will want to speak to you about that coin, and how it came into your possession. You needn’t decide now, it will take us several days to get back to Sarken. For now, I suggest you go below deck and rest, one of the crew will be able to show you to a spare bunk.”

Mila nodded her head. What else could she do for now? She was stuck on this ship until such time as they made landfall, so she took Jackie’s advice and made her way below deck. Besides, the Kingdom of Vulland and its capital of Sarken had been her eventual destination regardless. She made sure to not make eye contact with Anora as she passed her. Upon explaining to a random crewman what Jackie had said, she was ushered to the marine barracks and set up with a bunk of one of the on-duty marines, which would give her a good few hours to rest and recuperate. Only a few days… that’s all it would take for them to get back to dry land and civilisation…


	2. A Royal Welcome. A Marine is Born

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this Chapter, Mila arrives at Sarken to have an audience with Her Majesty Queen Nakhta de Renaud. However, things take a turn for the unusual and she and the Queen both discover that the supposed power of these coins, like the one Mila bought on a whim, is more real than either of them could have imagined...

The journey to Vulland felt far longer than the two days Mila logically knew it to be. In some ways, however, she was glad of that fact, it had given her time to process the situation she found herself in. Death and the destruction of ships and property was a fact of life for merchants sailing these seas. Mila had simply never considered the fact that it might one day happen to her, or if it did, that she wouldn’t be the sole survivor of a crew of a few dozen. She had mostly kept to herself throughout the return voyage, having little to offer the crew of a naval vessel - she would only have gotten in the way if she’d tried. At the very least she wanted to avoid Anora as much as she could, her frustration at being overruled on her own ship was understandable, Mila simply didn’t want to give the dragoness a target to vent said frustration at. This had given her time to think, to mourn, and to consider her options…

Queen Nakhta was well known for her zero-tolerance attitude towards piracy. So long as there were pirates in her dungeons, the hangings took place almost daily. The effectiveness of the policy could not be argued, it was rare that pirates plied their trade near Vullish ports, and if they did it was because they were either desperate or stupid. Both were situations which tend to lead naturally towards capture and execution, keeping the message alive and well that the Royal Navy’s Pirate Hunters were a force to be feared.

The Octavia made port smoothly, the portly bosun barking orders as only a canine can, and Mila was met on deck by Jackie and Anora, the latter of whom looked much more composed than when they first met.

“Mila,” Jackie was the first to speak, looking pointedly at their guest, “have you had a chance to give any thought to my request?”

Her request. An audience with the Queen. Mila subconsciously touched the coin around her neck, clasping her fingers around it. She had thought it nothing more than a pretty, little bauble when she bought it, even with the cryptic inscription. The shopkeeper had described it as a ‘good luck charm’, which Mila had thought was just a way of trying to convince her to buy it – sailors and their superstitions and all. But to find out that the Queen was actively seeking items matching its description? Was there really more to this than she thought? There was part of her that simply wanted to try and put her life back together, and yet…

She found herself nodding without even realising it after her moment of reverie, surprising herself. “If nothing else I feel you both deserve to be recognised for the fact that you went out of the way of your mission to rescue someone you didn’t have to.”

Unexpectedly, it was Anora that chose to respond to that, and her voice held none of the sharpness that it had a few days prior, “We’re servants of the Crown and its subjects. You’re a merchant who trades within Her Majesty’s waters, it’s our duty to protect people like you from piracy.” Jackie merely nodded in agreement.

“That may be so,” responded Mila, smiling at the pair of officers, “but I wasn’t able to thank you properly for saving my life at the time. The least I can do is tell Her Majesty what a fine job her people are doing.”

“That’s your prerogative,” Jackie stated matter-of-factly, “however that isn’t the reason I intend to try and arrange this audience. Hopefully, you’ll use it as an opportunity to do something more…”

There was a level of ominousness in those words that gave Mila pause. It only confirmed that there was something more going on that she had inadvertently managed to be dragged into. She had two options as she saw it: give this coin over to the Queen and let her do with it as she will, and try and return to business as usual; or visit the Queen, see what she had to say, why this interested her… and see what might be wanted of her. Really, she expected these to amount to the same thing at the end of the day, so what was the reason for her trepidation? She was just a spice merchant at the end of the day, it was not her place to involve herself in the power plays and treasure hunts of the nobility. All these thoughts culminated in her smiling at Jackie and responding simply with “We’ll see, won’t we?”

The capital of the nation of Vulland, Sarken was a bustling port city. For all that one might look at Mila and think that the slender, unassuming, and quite timid looking feline might be overwhelmed by such a bustling hub of civilisation, she seemed rather in her element. Day and night, people milled about the docks and the city proper going about their business, lending the reputation that Sarken never slept. On any particular day the main thoroughfares were packed with people, stalls and animals, which Mila and Jackie would pass through as the feline merchant was lead through town towards Kittering Castle, which sat proudly atop a hill around which the city had been originally constructed, overlooking the port and surrounding area that was the Queen’s immediate demesne. Queen Nakhta’s rule spread far beyond the shores of Vulland itself, of course, courtesy of imperialistic expansion in the last few centuries, but the coastal city and its castle was her family’s ancestral estate and the seat of Vulland’s power since time immemorial.

Jackie’s presence at Mila’s side certainly affected the way the market stallholders and shoppers reacted to their presence. Normally Mila might have expected to have been hawked at, and generally bothered by all and sundry. However, the presence of a Commander of the Royal Marines meant that the crowd kept their distance, parting for the pair and offering respectful nods and bows to the tigress, she was obviously well-known even outside of the castle and the military. This meant their trip towards Kittering Castle would be mostly uneventful, giving Mila more time to think as Jackie seemed disinclined to make conversation.

Royal Guardsmen, foxes all, stood and patrolled around the castles perimeter wall, standing a vigilant watch in defence of their sovereign. As Jackie approached, the guards at the outer wall’s gate crossed their polearms on instinct before getting a look at the pair. “Commander Jackie,” one of them spoke, dipping his head and giving a brisk salute, “We did not expect the Octavia to return so soon.” The guard’s eyes move over to Mila, whom he regarded with curiosity, “who is your… guest?”

“Her name is Mila,” Jackie said, gesturing at Mila, “she’s a merchant. Captain Anora and I rescued her from pirates off the coast of San Portia. I intend to entreat Her Majesty to meet with her as I feel there is something in her possession of interest to the Crown.”

Mila glanced back and forth between the pair, uncomfortable about being spoken about as though she were not physically present. She clutched her arms around herself, folding her forearms across her body at waist level and simply stood there awkwardly as the discussion continued back and forth between the pair. It was only now that she felt incredibly out of place, standing before Kittering Castle and, seemingly, about to enter an audience with Queen Nakhta herself.

“Just so you know Commander, the Queen’s been somewhat... “ the guardsman paused a moment, pursed lips and a glance to his colleague, who merely shrugged, indicating that something was amiss, “...let’s just say she may not be in the mood for visitors right now. I’d suggest you talk to Priscilla and see how things feel before you speak to Her Majesty.”

Jackie frowned, quirking her brow at the guard with a low hum, “I see. Nothing concerning I hope. Well, I’m sure Priscilla can fill me in on the details. Regardless, may we pass?”

“Be my guest Commander.”

With that, the foxes withdrew their weapons and stepped aside to allow Mila and Jackie to pass, Mila hesitated a moment before Jackie beckoned her with an attempt at a look that implied she had nothing to worry about. Mila wasn’t so sure but did as she was bid regardless. Kittering Castle was opulently decorated, even the courtyard they passed through to the castle’s entrance was a display of extravagance and wealth, manicured lawns and artistic topiary lining immaculately paved paths through the castle grounds. Mila flinched and jumped at the sound of what was clearly a musket firing. It seemed as though some young noblemen, attended by servants, were target shooting - the servants were releasing pigeons from a nearby cage, which were shot and retrieved by a nearby hound. Mila cringed and shuddered, the idleness of wealth lead to some barbaric practices, and she quickened her pace to keep step with Jackie as they ascended the steps and entered the castle proper.

Stepping into the main entrance hall of the castle, Mila was immediately struck by how out of place she both looked and felt. The castle’s exterior maintained the facade of the middle ages castle that it was, but the Queen seemed to make sure that the interior was kept up-to-date with the latest fashions in flooring and general decoration. White marble flooring and sumptuous rugs gave what could have been a very drab surrounding a sense of high society and homeliness - this castle had clearly evolved into more of a palace estate over the years. A large staircase leading to upper floors was opposite them, and a figure descended, glancing at the pair and wearing a politely subdued, but genuine smile.

The woman was an elegant, slender looking peahen dressed in a deep green dress that hung off her shoulders, exposing enough to be provocative while remaining tasteful. The dress itself was seemingly designed to emulate the colourful plumage one might expect of peafowl, but that was so sadly lacking on the female of the species.

Jackie bowed deeply, and Mila quickly moved into an awkward curtsey - something she was clearly not well-practised with. “Lady Priscilla, “ Jackie said as she rose to her full height again, “I trust Her Majesty is well?”

“Queen Nakhta is hardly as delicate a flower as it seems that gossiping guards might imply Jackie,” the peahen declared with a roll of her eyes as she unfurled a delicate and ornately decorated fan which she gently waved in her right hand, “I think they would do well to pay both more and less attention so that they either get their facts straight or simply do not spread rumours at all. Regardless, it’s delightful to see you back in the castle, do you have news for Her Majesty?”

Mila remained silent. She felt completely ignored by the noblewoman speaking with Jackie as she descended the stairs to their level. In some ways, this was a reassuring development, she had not been questioned as to why she was dirtying their carpet with her very presence for instance. However, it made her wonder whether or not her being brought here was going to result in anything at all if even some random courtier considered her barely worthy of notice.

“I do,” Jackie responded with a nod, glancing at Mila and drawing attention firmly to the feline now, “Captain Anora and I rescued this woman from pirates off the coast of San Portia. I believe she has something of interest to Her Majesty and was hoping that we might be granted an audience?”

The derision in Priscilla’s eyes was palpable as she looked Mila up and down, staring down her beak at her the whole time. There was a pause, and a cluck of the tongue before Priscilla sighed and addressed Jackie once more, “Jackie, dear… you know full well Her Majesty does not have the time to entertain every piece of riff-raff who claims to have ‘something of import’ to discuss with her. If she wishes to express her gratitude I am sure she can do so to Captain Anora and yourself.”

Jackie’s jaw clenched in obvious frustration, “Lady Priscilla…” she hissed through slightly clenched teeth, “it’s by my request, and not miss Mila’s, that we seek an audience with Her Majesty. I understand that as her lady-in-waiting your job is to make sure the Queen isn’t bothered by minor inconveniences… but this is important.”

“Important to your mind, Commander, but not necessarily to Her Majesty’s,” the peahen interrupted, snapping her fan closed and touching it to the tigress’ lips to silence her. “If you have a report on your mission, I am sure that Her Majesty can get everything she needs from your usual written correspondence, and only then if she deems meeting this… merchant… worthwhile will I consider making arrangements in her diary. Is that understood?”

Jackie’s fur stood on end and she clenched one fist for a fraction of a moment, but held herself back, taking a deep breath through her nose and nodding slowly, “Of course, m’lady.” Without a further word she spun on her heels and made to march back out of the castle. Mila, who was temporarily blindsided by the suddenness of Jackie’s departure was about to follow when she felt a pressure on her shoulder. Glancing back she would see Priscilla’s fan touched to her shoulder as a means of making her wait.

“What was your name?” she asked, matter-of-factly as she looked at Mila, still looking down her beak even as she obviously studied the merchant’s elaborate outfit.

“Mila.”

“Walk with me Mila,” came the response, and with that, the peahen strutted off to one of the side doors, which was opened for her by an attentive page who bowed in response. Mila blinked, but followed, as Jackie seemed to have completely forgotten about her as she stormed from the castle without a second glance behind her. The pair stepped into a long corridor that stretched one side of the castle it seemed, closed doors to unknown rooms lining one side, while on the other, curtained windows overlooked the castle grounds and gardens. “You will forgive me my rather brusque attitude a moment ago, won’t you?” It didn’t feel like a question, and she continued without waiting for a response, “Jackie is incredibly competent but often gets ahead of herself I feel in bringing matters to Her Majesty before it has been confirmed that they are worthy of her attention. However… for her to bring you here immediately after making port… that interests me, and seeing as I have the Queen’s ear, perhaps I may determine whether or not what you bring to the table is worthwhile.”

Mila walked with her and listened attentively, but she was genuinely unsure of what was being asked of her. However, it became clear that the peahen was waiting for a response, so Mila swallowed and did her best to answer, “If I’m completely honest with you my lady… I don’t quite know what it was that Jackie brought me here for either.” Her hand lifted to her neck where she started to fiddle with her necklace, turning the coin over in her fingers, she had a rather annoying habit of fidgeting when she was nervous. “She and Captain Anora rescued me, as she said when my ship was attacked by pirates… I… don’t remember the attack, just a loud noise… an explosion maybe? Then everything went black and the next thing I remember was waking up on the deck of the Octavia.”

“Nothing else?”

Mila paused again and stopped playing with her necklace. “Captain Anora started to talk about my necklace… apparently, this coin looks very much like something Her Majesty had them looking for.”

Priscilla smiled, “And now we come to the heart of the matter. A coin, with an inscription, I assume?” Mila nodded silently, and the peahen sighed softly, gently shaking her head, “I fear Mila that you have become involved in one of Her Majesty’s momentary flights of fancy. She has heard stories of some ‘magical treasure’ and seeks to possess it for herself. Of course, I am counselling her on the ridiculousness of such an idea as so far the expeditions sent out to find any of these so-called ‘magic coins’ have returned empty-handed and with no evidence of their existence or supposed power.”

Mila couldn’t help but chuckle softly into one of her hands before catching herself and swallowing the rest of the sound. Priscilla shook her head and smiled to imply that no offence had been given. “I have to admit…” Mila says, smiling a little herself now, “that does sound rather far-fetched, I just bought this from a merchant in San Portia because I thought it looked pretty. She spun a good yarn about it being a ‘good luck charm’ but… I just like how it looks.”

“Well, quite my dear. If I may I must say it does suit you. I still believe that you've been brought here under false pretences though… or rather I fear Jackie's loyalty to the Crown, commendable as it is, has blinded her to the farcical nature of the request the Queen hs laid at her feet.” Priscilla paused a moment, touching her fan to her beak and humming softly, thoughtfully. “Thank you for indulging my curiosity Mila… I believe I have heard enough to ensure that the right words reach Her Majesty’s ears. I was about to retire to take lunch... perhaps as a show of the Crown’s hospitality, an apology for the inconvenience as it were, you might wish to join me? There is a charming little pie shop in town and I feel like slumming it this afternoon.” Her high-pitched tittering laugh made Mila bristle just a little, for as nice as Priscilla had been thus far, her upper-class bias was still frustrating to be on the receiving end of. Still, she forced a smile and nodded. “Excellent! Shall we?”

The pie shop in question was situated not far from the waterfront, where even Mila looked out of place in her rather ornate outfit assembled from bits and pieces of fashion from her various excursions over the years. Priscilla stood out like a sore thumb, however, she leaned conspiratorially in towards Mila as they approached, “I do quite often like to slip out of the castle from time to time. It gives me an opportunity to walk the streets and keep an ear to the ground for anything of interest to Her Majesty.”

Mila could understand this, but at the same time, she had her doubts as to whether or not a member of the nobility would really want to take lunch in this part of the city. But, if that was what Priscilla’s tastes were, who was she to argue? “You’re not worried about… well… this area of the city doesn’t seem the most hospitable…”

As if on cue the two women would hear a rough laugh from behind them. Mila turned around to find a rather gruff, dishevelled looking weasel, tapping a makeshift wooden club in one paw and flanked by a rat who was eyeing Priscilla with a grin. Before the pair could move a third figure emerged from the shadows in front of them, blocking their escape from both sides. “Should’ve listened to the pretty kitty… this part o’ town ain’t for the likes o’ you nobs,” the weasel spoke through a faceful of missing and yellowed teeth, though even that didn’t prevent him from having a wicked fanged grin.

“Oh, my word…” Priscilla gasped, instinctively shrinking away and backing herself against the wall of a building that lined the narrow street they were in. Mila pursed her lips and stood her ground… she was no fighter, but the least she could do is try and put herself between these thugs and Lady Priscilla. This show of bravado elicited a laugh through gritted teeth from the three men, whose leader, the weasel, just clucked his tongue and shook his head slowly.

“Aw, look at that… li’l kitten thinks she’s tough…” taunted the weasel, again eliciting laughter and grins from his companions, “I wouldn’t fight if I were you kitten… that’s just goin’ to make everything more difficult for us, and more painful for you.” He gestured menacingly with his club, pointing it at Mila and jerking his head in the direction of the rat, who started to approach the pair of women, pulling a knife from his belt with a smooth sound of metal on leather.

By this point Priscilla had clenched her eyes shut and was cowering, she had no fight in her and would probably have given the thugs whatever they wanted in order to get out of this with her life. Mila, on the other hand, clenched her fist at her side. First, she had lost her ship and her crew to pirates, now these thugs were going to try and take what little she had left from her. Not without a fight, she decided. It may have been a particularly stupid idea, in the long run. They had weapons and she didn’t, but she was hoping she could take the rat by surprise if he thought that he might threaten her into backing down by brandishing that blade. Ordinarily, he’d probably have been right… but on this particular day recklessness was the order of business.

That was why as he approached she didn’t give him the time to threaten her, she lunged at him, practically pouncing on him and knocking them both to the floor in the process. The knife was knocked aside, but not out of reach and the rat cursed while his companions laughed, jeering at him for getting jumped by a little girl. What none of them noticed, for the time being at least, was the red glow spreading around Mila’s neck, focused on that coin that had been the subject of so much interest of late.

The rat sneered up at Mila and reached for the knife, only for his arm to be intercepted by one of the feline’s hands, and with a sideward glance, the rat would blink as he finally noticed the fact that the young merchant was surrounded by an expanding aura of red glowing light. She snarled down at him and his eyes widened briefly just in time to see her forehead rapidly approaching him. There was a sickening crunch as she slammed her head into his, knocking the rat out cold and doing little more than bloodying her forehead on his nose and sending her headwrap - which seemed to be unravelling itself - flying to the floor. By the time the feline stood up, her upper body was consumed by the same glow as her neck and arm had been moments before, her hair spilling over her shoulders and face as she looked from the weasel to the mange-ridden tomcat at the other end of the alley.

“What the bloody hell…?” the weasel said, glancing between the snarling female and his now unconscious companion. “What are you standing there for, get her!” he barked at the tomcat, who hesitated briefly before lunging. The hesitation was his first mistake. Mila rounded on him and ducked to the side to avoid the clumsy swing of his club, and a clenched fist flew towards his jaw in response. When it connected there was a cracking sound and the tomcat was sent sprawling to the floor from the force of the impact.

The weasel’s jaw dropped, and the next thing he heard was the sound of steel being drawn, and the point of a sword was levelled at his throat. Mila looked down the length of the blade at him, still baring her teeth, but she seemed to be willing to give him a chance to surrender. “Get out of my sight before I decide to run you through,” she growled. She seemed oblivious to the fact that she had not been carrying a sword until a few moments ago, when the scabbard had practically materialised at her side as that ongoing red glow had travelled down to her hips and down her legs, now fully encompassing her and dancing over her skin like fire. The weasel did not need to be told twice, and turned tail, sprinting away and rounding a corner as though his life depended on it, which it very well might have at that point in time. Mila scoffed and with an almost reflexive action returned the sword to its scabbard and moved to collect her fallen headwear. Not a headwrap as it had been before… but a round-topped hat in a deep blue with a pink-red ribbon around the brim.

Priscilla hadn’t dared open her eyes until she heard Mila’s threat and she slowly blinked her eyes open to see the feline adjusting the hat on her head and brushing wayward strands of hair out of her face. It took her a moment to register that the woman standing before her was the same one she had left Kittering Castle with. First of all, she was markedly taller, Mila had stood at around five feet and a handful of inches, but the woman now brushing herself off and making sure the blood on her face wasn’t, in fact, her own was a solid six feet in height. Her features were much the same as Mila’s own, though her body was sporting much more defined musculature, giving her a decidedly warrior-like physique, not unlike that of Jackie or a member of the Royal Marines. Her fur and hair colour were practically identical, which was what made her most recognisably the same person, though her hair was now pulled back into a ponytail beneath the newly acquired hat she wore. Her fur did, however, sport a more noticeable patterning, particularly around her shoulders and tail where leopard-like spots and rings of darker colour could be seen.

The hat was not the only new accessory she had somehow acquired. In fact, her whole outfit was different, no longer a mishmash of Eastern and Western inspiration. Now she wore a dark blue vest, edged in lighter blue with a horizontally striped collar over an undershirt of the same red-pink colour as that of the ribbon around her hat, both of which fell short on her and showed off the feline’s now toned abdomen. Below the waist, she had a wrap that was reminiscent of what she used to wear, however, it and the black leather trousers that covered her legs were held up by a thick belt with a large buckle set with a red jewel. Hanging from that belt was the scabbard of a cutlass, the same sword she had threatened the weasel with earlier, its hilt also adorned with a red jewel like the belt. The ensemble was completed by heavy leather, cuffed boots adorned with skull ornaments at the front where the cuff’s split and buckles around the tops of her feet. Around her neck still hung the coin, glistening gently in the light, but instead of the jewelled and gold necklace it had been set in before, it now hung from a simple leather cord.

“M-Mila…?” Priscilla spoke, trembling as she took in the sight of the woman before her. Mila turned towards her and nodded her head, smiling.

“Are you alright Lady Priscilla?” she asked, her words sounding more confident than anything the peahen had heard from her before, and Mila approached and looked her over for any injuries. Had she not noticed? Surely not. After all, she had picked up and put that hat back on her head.

“...I… feel as though I should ask you the same thing… I-I mean look at yourself!”

Mila glanced at her arms, her clothes and the sword, and then grinned confidently at Priscilla, “I’ve never felt better as a matter of fact. I can’t say exactly what happened but… I think there may be something to Her Majesty’s theory about these coins. I’m almost certain it’s what gave me the power to protect us from those thugs.”

“I…” Priscilla was at a loss for words and simply gulped softly, “...perhaps… perhaps I should arrange for you to meet with Her Majesty…”

Their return to Kittering Castle was spent mostly in silence. Priscilla had no clue of what to say to Mila, who simply strode beside her as though this entire situation were something completely everyday and normal! As they reached the Castle Gates Priscilla instructed a page to go directly to the Queen and inform her that she was bringing an important visitor, and the young rabbit lad dutifully went and did so. This meant that by the time Priscilla gently knocked on the door to the Queen’s audience chamber she was already expecting them. “Come in.”

Nakhta de Renaud, perhaps one of the most powerful and influential women in the world, wore the mantle of royalty well. The white-furred vixen stood with her back to the door, hands lightly clasped behind the back of her purple gown, the crown that sat atop her head was remarkably modest compared to those of some monarchs around the globe. It was a simple tiara, studded with a variety of precious gems that framed the top of her face and black-tipped ears. “Priscilla, darling, so glad to hear you made it back from your little… excursion unharmed…” The smile, while unseen, was practically audible in her voice, and confirmed the moment she turned around. It was sly and somewhat judgmental, and Priscilla shrank beneath the Queen’s gaze. “I knew that one of these days your sweet tooth would get the better of you… and yet you simply refuse to see to hiring a new pastry chef for the Court,” Nakhta clucked her tongue and shook her head, “keeping all those pastries to yourself will all go to your hips one day.” Her smile turned to more of a sneer.

“Y-Yes, Your Majesty,” the sheepish, blushing peahen replied, “but… my Queen, I have-” She was interrupted by a raised hand from Nakhta, whose attention had shifted to Mila with obvious interest.

“Your messenger told me that you were bringing an ‘interesting guest’,” Nakhta said, finishing the peahen’s sentence, “I take it this is she? I have just had a rather fascinating report cross my desk from Jackie talking about a merchant girl she and Anora rescued from pirates. She does not look like any merchant I have ever seen…” Priscilla was about to speak again and was silenced by a raised finger from Nakhta before her opened beak had uttered a single syllable, “I was not talking to you, Priscilla. You may go.”

With that Priscilla blinked simply, and then curtseyed politely, departing the room and leaving Mila and Nakhta alone, the Queen still studying Mila intently for a few moments. The feline took a moment to study the Queen back, and wonder why she had not been disarmed before entering the audience chamber. Perhaps Nakhta was confident enough in her guards to protect her, not that Mila had any intentions to harm the Queen. “To be fair to Jackie’s report, Your Majesty, I looked… rather different when she and I first met.”

“Explain,” the Queen said, arms folding over her chest to indicate that she had little time or patience for word games.

Mila reached up to her neck, touching her fingers to the coin she was still wearing around it. The Queen had noticed it during her inspection of the woman, but if she had any reaction to the sight she had not let it show, merely observing Mila matter-of-factly as she waited for her to speak. “Simply put, Your Majesty… if what I’ve overheard from Jackie and Anora are anything to go by, it seems as though your theories about these coins are accurate. There’s definitely something more to them than their monetary value.”

Nakhta’s expression shifted subtly, her lips quirking at the corners into something approximating a smirk. She did not speak though, not yet. Mila would realise the Queen wasn’t about to show her hand until all of the feline’s cards were on the table. “I came across this particular coin in San Portia… it seems I attracted the attention of pirates who also seek this coin. My ship was sunk, and Captain Anora and her crew rescued me. Jackie wanted to bring me to see you earlier, however, Lady Priscilla deemed it ‘unworthy of your attention’.”

Nakhta scoffed derisively, “What is worthy or not of my attention is for me to decide. I admire Priscilla’s dedication but she spends far too much time ‘predicting’ how I think rather than simply asking me.” The fox paused, regaining her composure and dipping her head to Mila, “Continue.”

Mila went on to explain the incident in town, how she and Priscilla had been beset by those thugs and during her attempts to intervene and protect her the coin had done… something, and resulted in her taking on the form the Queen now saw before her. “I can’t explain it, but it’s like the coin knew what I needed to do, or, wanted to do, I guess? ‘Become What You Seek’ seems more than just a random phrase or metaphor.”

Finally, Nakhta held a hand up to stop her and showed her teeth in a grin as she nodded her head, “Indeed. I had my suspicions since I was first informed about the existence of these coins. There have been… tales of people undergoing unusual transformative changes for years though no-one has ever paid them any mind. Faerie tales and flights of fancy. However, I had it on good authority that these were more than mere rumours, However, dedicating the resources of the kingdom to a treasure hunt with no guarantee of success would have been reckless and foolish.” Her grin grew and she lowered her gaze somewhat slyly, stepping closer to Mila, “But now? With one of these enchanted coins and the results of its power stood before me? This changes things…”

Mila paused and listened to what the Queen was saying, but nodded slowly, she had a good idea where this was going, but now that she had the upper hand she wanted the Queen to make the first move, simply folding her arms over her chest. Nahta was no stranger to this sort of power play, and in fact, she was reasonably impressed that the woman in front of her seemed to catch on so quickly. That made her infinitely more interesting. “If pirates sank your ship in pursuit of this treasure they will no doubt be looking for more of these coins. I have it on good authority that there is more than one in this world, and given I now know they exist, I am inclined to believe them. You, my dear, have stumbled onto something much larger than yourself. I would propose a mutually beneficial arrangement.” Nakhta turned and moved towards the window she had been looking out of when Mila had first entered the room.

“You agree to help me find these coins, that I might use their power for the betterment of Vulland and all who live under her auspice. In exchange, I will give you a position within my circle of advisors… and the means to exact your vengeance on the pirate scum who destroyed your life and murdered your friends and crew.”

Power and vengeance? Mila couldn’t help but smirk behind the Queen’s back. She liked the sound of that. She hadn’t had the power to do anything but mourn her friends before, but now? Now she could turn the tables.

“When do I start?”

Nakhta smiled to herself and, unseen to Mila, ran her tongue lightly over her lips as though she could taste the fruits of her labour already. “Immediately. I will have you assigned to the Octavia under Captain Anora and Commander Jackie, as you already seem acquainted. You will take Jackie’s place as the commander of the ship’s marines while she takes up a more permanent post as Anora’s second-in-command.”

Mila nodded, she felt like she could handle a few rowdy marines, and she had to admit that her new form seemed more inclined to bashing heads and clashing swords than she ever used to be. She was about to turn to leave before Nakhta spoke further.

“Before you leave, however, go to the Royal Archives. I have had one of my scribes scouring historical and mythological records of events that may relate to transformation and the other powers these coins have attributed to them. I understand he has information to share, I will have Anora and Jackie meet you there…”

With another nod Mila turned now, leaving the Queen alone in her chamber. Nakhta looked out over the gardens and the city beyond the walls of her castle and now grinned quite openly to herself, reflected in the glass of the window.

“I do so enjoy when things go my way…”


End file.
